The Lost Tomb : Restart (The Sound Of Providence)

Chapter 82: Like Evil Spirits

Fatty looked out the window behind me and asked me how many people there were. I gave him a rough estimate of more than forty people. Fatty exhaled, looked at the stick in his hand, and said to me, "It'll be a tough battle."

I narrowed my eyes. The last time I had the pleasure of fighting like this was at Crescent Hotel when I had to make a good escape. Fatty had been the meat shield and Poker-Face's output was very accurate. That was when we were in the best condition. I remembered that there had been at least thirty people who were beaten down at the time. But the terrain back then was complex, while the terrain here was so flat you could gallop a horse across it. We would definitely be in trouble if we were surrounded.

Fatty leaned against the window and said to me, "Go out and hold them off first. I'll run to the kitchen. Those guys are the real deal. Look, there must be something in their ponchos. Our flesh isn't made of iron. I'll bring the guys out and meet you on the road by the gate. We'll run over and start fighting."

I looked outside. We still had some time before they found us. Uncle Two was in another room and I didn't know if I should alert his people. Fatty waved his hand, "People will die."

I thought so, too. Uncle Two's guys were all outlaws, so they might really end up hurting people if they got serious. I glanced at Poker-Face, who was looking at the door with his head tilted. I didn't know what he was looking at.

I also glanced at the door, but I still hadn't figured out the situation yet. At that moment, someone kicked down the door and two or three people rushed in. They had iron hooks in their hands that were as long as their arms.

Fuck me, it's a diversion, I secretly cursed. The people outside had attracted our attention while the others had already reached the door. Poker-Face grabbed an iron hook with one hand, moved forward, and pushed his elbow directly into the person's chest. The man made a muffled sound and tried to retreat, but Poker-Face smacked him in the head before immediately hitting one of the other people. He then grabbed the hook and instantly used it to knock the third person to the ground before they even knew what was happening.

After seeing the three people felled by such godlike skills, five more people rushed in. But the room wasn't that big, so it was instantly packed. Poker-Face turned and threw the hook out, hitting one of them on the forehead. Two people went up and tried to grab him, but fell to the ground instantly, not knowing what happened.

It was only in that moment that Fatty and I finally reacted. We went up and grabbed the last two people's necks one by one. Fatty and I moved the heads towards each other until they collided. The two men immediately fell to the ground and clutched their heads, crying in pain.

The people outside didn't immediately come in. Based on how ordinary people thought, they probably believed that the three of us had been killed when the eight people started fighting us in the narrow space.

I saw the old man outside start to light a kerosene lamp. It seemed he had something to say. He probably had a trick up his sleeve and was confident that the people who came in could stop us.

The three of us looked at each other. Fatty took a deep breath before picking up two of the men and tossing them over his shoulders. "Ah, it's been a long time since I got to be so badass," he said.

I lit a cigarette. Maybe it was the wine just now, but I also went up and slung two of them over my shoulders. Fatty turned to Poker-Face, "Little Brother, don't drop the ball. Stay in formation."

Fatty pushed the door open, and under the watchful eyes of more than forty people, the two of us walked out with four stunned people over our shoulders. I was still smoking a cigarette and suddenly felt as if "Dagger Society Suite" [1] was ringing in my ears.

I looked back at Poker-Face. He hadn't listened at all and followed us out. Fatty sighed and threw his two people into the pools of rainwater on the beach. I also threw my people away and then the three of us walked side by side to the stunned old man.

"They'll definitely try to placate us later. Do you want to accept it?" Fatty quietly asked.

"I've been in a bad mood recently. I don't want to be placated." I rubbed my waist—those two men had been a little heavy—and took a hard drag of my cigarette. Those forty people were slow to react and all leaned towards the old man.

I was all too familiar with fighting. Those guys just now were the main force and were probably their best fighters. I figured that most of these forty-odd people were just here for show. I grinned and started laughing, feeling as if all the unease in my heart was finally being released.

"Take the initiative to attack," I said quietly. At that moment, it felt as if I had returned to the desert. The three of us suddenly accelerated and rushed to the front of those forty people.

We must have looked like evil spirits at that time, because those forty people stepped back in an instant.

After drinking that wine earlier and running the thirty steps to stand in front of those forty people, Fatty and I couldn't breathe. We stopped and gasped for breath while those forty people stood there and watched us.

Poker-Face stopped and handed me a bottle of water. 

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Note:

[1] It's a song featured in "Kung Fu Hustle" but was actually written in 1959 for a historical dance-drama based on the Dagger Society, an anti-Qing secret society who mounted an unsuccessful rebellion in 1855.